


A little home improvement

by ReturnFrom_86



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 12:48:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReturnFrom_86/pseuds/ReturnFrom_86
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>End!verse, Cas returns from a raid with something unexpected. Total fluff, almost a crack!fic on accounts that Dean is too nice, I picture this sometime before he turns into a total asshole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A little home improvement

**Author's Note:**

> As ever comments appreciated :)

“Don’t you dare Cas, put it down,” Dean begged as he shielded himself from the deadly paint covered brush Castiel held aloft in his hand. A mad grin spread across his face as he looked down at the strong, ruthless man cowering under his mighty weapon. He brought it down with a mighty swing of his arm, splashing green paint across Dean’s chest and spraying it through his outstretched palm and into his hair. The supply raid had yielded the usual necessary results, and to Chuck’s delight extra toilet roll, but Castiel’s eyes had lit up at the tins of green paint. The decaying hardware store had been a rest point before moving into the more dangerous parts of the city where the Croatoan virus was still raging. The dusty tins were scattered across the floor where the cabinet had fallen over in the rushed madness of the beginnings of the apocalypse. Burst cans bled dried paint onto the floor, but one colour caught Castiel’s eye and he’d offered to carry them. The group agreed to let him take them but warned it was on him if he fell behind because of some paint. The group grew more tired and tetchy as the raid came to a waring end and they made their way back to camp. The bag which carried the tins dug against Castiel’s shoulders, but whenever the pain grew too great he thought of the colour, the brilliant, bright green which was only a faint impersonation of the dazzling green he really sought after and was waiting for him back in their cabin.

“Son of a bitch”, Dean murmured under his breath and pressed a paint drenched hand to Castiel’s ass, creating a mark as he had been marked so long ago. His other hand reached down to the tin of paint to soak his own brush in the emerald liquid, Castiel could only squirm defenselessly as tears of pleasure streamed down his cheeks and his body shook with laughter at his deeds. Dean brought the brush down in an arc of thick paint droplets, coating Castiel from head to foot. Taking shuddering breaths Castiel wiped some of the paint from his eyelids and managed to say “Even?”, through painted lips. Dean nodded but his eyes shone with trickery, promising Cas that perhaps they weren’t as even as he assumed. At Castiel’s arrival back at camp, shaking from exertion but flushed from the successful mission, Dean marched straight for him, panic melting from his eyes to be replaced by his usual cautious gaze. Dean enveloped the smaller man in his arms and pressed a swift kiss to his forehead as he looked anxiously around at the returned members of the supply party. He breathed a sigh of relief into Castiel’s hair as he finished his count of the group. In his arms his friend shifted and his muffled voice reached his ears, “Dean, can I please drop this bag, it is incredibly heavy”. Dean raised his hands to the shoulder straps visibly dragging down on Castiel’s shoulders, “holy shit Cas, what you got in here?”, removing the bag from his back Dean opened it up and squinted into the bag, he raised his eyes to Cas’s who replied, rubbing his shoulders distractedly, “I thought our place could do with a brightening up”. Dean smiled warmly down at Castiel, through all the darkness which surrounded them, brightening up their little haven was an appealing prospect. 

Dean ran a slightly less paint covered hand through his hair and grimaced as it came back with considerably more green, “It’s gonna take forever to get this out, did you forget the showers are rationed Cas?”, Castiel shrugged and walked towards Dean, pressing his paint soaked chest against Dean’s own, “I figured our very own King of the Castle could get us a few more tokens”, Cas’s hands wondered down, literally painting a trail down Dean’s ribs, and his fingers crept past the waistband of Dean’s jeans. Dean grasped Castiel’s wrists, his body tensed slightly as he leaned back a hairs breadth from Cas, “I can’t do that Cas, the situation’s too delicate, there’d be a damn mutiny”, Castiel rolled his eyes in exasperation, one of his most widely used human knacks he’d picked up, he opened his mouth to say speak but shut it slowly as his brow furrowed and his eyes stared past Dean’s shoulder to the wall behind him. Castiel’s hands rose to Dean’s cheeks, holding his face steady in a vice like grip as he stepped forward and brought his whole body flush with Dean’s. The movement was effortless and before Dean could take another breath Castiel’s lips were on his, pushing against his own with tremendous force. The desperate ferocity was so great that Dean had to take a stumbling step back, Castiel’s hands went to Dean’s chest, and with his hands and his lips continued to press against the man. Again Dean stumbled back until he felt a cool stickiness through the back of his t shirt and against the back of his head as Castiel gave one final push with and removed his tingling lips. “Son of a bitch”, Dean sighed through numb lips, “when’d you get so sneaky, Cas”, Castiel grinned slyly at Dean, leaning even closer to breath into Dean’s ear, “I learned from the best”. Castiel stepped away from the flustered man and made his way out of the room, he called back from the door with a cheery lilt to his voice, “I guess I could let you share my shower token, but I wouldn’t want a mutiny”. The man gave Dean a parting wink as he left the room. The paint from the wall clung to his t shirt and to his skin where it had soaked through as Dean peeled himself away from it. Twisting around to see how much paint had come away from the wall with him he sighed at his imprint on the wall. They were definitely not even.


End file.
